


Familia Infortunium

by Lyl



Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate History, Gen, Manticore, Post Series (Dark Angel), Terminal City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyl/pseuds/Lyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A voice from the past changes everything in Terminal City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what comes from reading too much Supernatural, followed by watching most of season 2 & 3, and then deciding to pull out Dark Angel season 2.

The command centre was strangely quiet as he walked in, heads turning as the crowd parted to let him pass. Alec wondered what made Dix call him from the outer edges of Terminal City, and wasn't too sure of the atmosphere around him. The silence was tense, had an almost awed quality to it, but not the sombre and angry undertones he was used to sensing every time news of another transgenic death hit the news. Something else had happened

“What's going on?” he called out, making his way to the centre of the room, where predictably Max and Logan were holding court. He nodded to Mole and a few of the other unit leaders as he passed through the crowd. He'd made it a point to get to know each person in Terminal City, learning their names and abilities, among other things. That's how he knew that Clive, a digger in Unit 7, had an unhealthy addiction to celery, and that Martine, an X-6 in Unit 3, had a huge case of hero worship for Dalton, the X-6 from the Jam Pony screw-up. He went to meet each new baby once it was born, and every new transgenic that slipped into Terminal City. He also knew the names of each transgenic who had slipped _out_ of Terminal City, giving them a nod of permission when they sought out his approval to find a new home.

“The kiddies are in a tizzy over some box one of the newbies brought with them,” said Max, not bothering to look up at Alec. She looked slightly put out by the entire thing, like she usually did when she didn't understand something, and Alec noticed several dark glares being sent in her direction. 

Max was all about the transgenic freedom, taking command of Terminal City like a five-star general, but she had apparently missed the course on interacting with the troops. She talked a good game, and could pull out a rescue in a pinch, but the finer points of leadership in war were something she lacked. And they were definitely at war despite what little Maxie liked to think – often supported by Logan’s emphatic speeches of peace and non-violence on his frequent visits - the tanks, troops and hard artillery surrounding them spoke to that. 

“Huh?” Alec had long ago given up trying to figure out what Max's problem was when she was in a snit, so instead looked to the upper level and an annoyed Mole. 

“This here's Ryder,” answered Mole, slapping a cat-like transgenic on the back, “Just got in today, and brought us a little present.”

“Welcome,” said Alec, nodding in greeting and making sure to make eye contact with the newest transgenic. He knew Mole would keep Ryder close by until Alec had a chance to talk to him. He heard more than saw Max role her eyes, the reaction of those around them speaking to him louder than words.

Alec had tried his best to steer her in the right direction, but Max seemed to have an entitlement complex where transgenics were concerned. Due to some funky genetic make up, a few vague visions of a guy with a cane, and the on-again off-again rune tattoos, she seemed to think she was the best person to lead the transgenics to safety and freedom.

Privately, Alec was of the opinion that too many years on the outside, and too much Logan-shaped influence, had made Max forget what it was to be transgenic. Or she'd never really known in the first place. He hadn't lied to her all those months ago when he'd said that it had gotten a whole lot worse after the escape. The training and brainwashing had intensified, as had the punishments. Units had pulled together even tighter, protecting each other to the point of death sometimes. When the females started going into heat, the situation had only gotten worse. That seemed to be the kick start their instincts needed, and suddenly they were a pack. Unit structures were changing by the day, and there were more than a few unexplained deaths that were ruled 'training accidents' by the guards and instructors.

Every single transgenic in Terminal City had fought for their rank and position, and in walked Max with her ten years on the outside, and stepped into the position of leader. At first it had been a weird combination of awe and fear – everyone was completely blown away by this '09-er who had survived on the outside for so long. There was also a healthy amount of fear at the start, because Manticore's brainwashing had done its job exceptionally well. But that had worn off fairly quickly, and Max was losing favour among Terminal City residents. They were starting to realize what Alec had known and dealt with since the beginning. Max was ten years out of training and had forgotten what it was like to be part of a unit again; forgotten what it was like to be fresh from the Manticore brainwasher and thrown into the outside world without a life vest.

“So, what did you bring us?” Alec asked the newest resident of Terminal City. He clapped his hands together and kept his face smiling wide and open, but making sure Ryder knew who was in charge. It was something he'd learned early on at Manticore, the art of claiming dominance without throwing a punch. By the way the cat eyes lowered, the message had gotten across.

“Some weird box from Manticore,” said Max dismissively. Alec watched Mole's teeth clamp down harder on his cigar, heard the sub-vocal growling from around the room, and knew he was going to be doing some damage control when this was done.

Alec had been spending more and more time recently putting out fires that she started while trying to 'teach' the others how to behave in the outside world. It was unfair to expect anyone to understand the rules of a society, if they'd never been explained before.

Alec was starting to think that they needed to create their own set of rules for their own society. Basing their lives on a culture that would gladly see them dead was not winning Max any popularity contests.

Mole's gaze shifted to some place behind Alec's right shoulder. Not really knowing what to expect, he turned and stared at the innocuous black box sitting on the table in front of Max and Logan, in the middle of the crowded HQ. Alec started as he realized what the object was. The thing was smaller than one of Logan's laptops, dull gun-metal black, but a hundred times more deadly than anything that size had a right to be.

Walking towards it slowly, Alec wondered why anyone would bring one of _those_ from the ruins of Manticore; especially one that appeared fully active.

“What is _that_ doing here?” Alec called to the room at large, his voice hard and cold.

“Look closer,” was all Mole would say, a gruffness in his voice Alec hadn't ever heard before.

Stepping next to the table, Alec caught his breath at the insignia carved into the top of the box.

“You found this at Manticore? Where?” Alec called over his shoulder, eyes never leaving the scratchy five-point star carved into the metal. He understood the reverence and awe from the other transgenics now, and even shared it.

“In what use to be the northeast guard hut,” called out the quiet voice of Ryder.

“What is it?” demanded Max, breaking the silent hold over the room.

Alec just stared at it for a minute, debating how – or even whether – to answer.

“It's a dispatch pouch,” he said after a time. “Manticore used these in the field when orders changed or new intel was found, and wanted a secure way to transport them to the front lines. A DNA lock keys it to a single recipient.”

“So why is everyone treating it like it's going to explode?” she asked, and Alec managed to pull his eyes away from the achingly familiar symbol on the top to look at her.

“Because once it’s opened the same DNA sequence needs to be input within thirty seconds of the end of the message, or the entire thing will blow up and take half of Terminal City with it.”

He was gratified to see her eyes widen at that.

“Then get it out of here, Alec,” said Logan, speaking for the first time. Alec would have been just as happy if the Robo-Wonder had remained silent the entire time – or better yet, not been here in the first place – but he'd been invading Terminal City since the beginning and like a cockroach and now there was no getting rid of him

Alec never could get a handle on Max and Logan's relationship – or lack thereof. Since Manticore had burned, they'd been on and off for close to a year. Alec found he'd been more than a little angry at being used as the fall guy, but found he was even more angry when Max had immediately fallen back into Logan's latex covered arms after the hostage thing at Jam Pony. She'd used him and it was an understatement to say he wasn’t happy about it. He was sick of the soppy looks and the soft words and the secret meetings between the two, and Alec had decided that he was through covering for Max's non-existent love life. He'd been royally pissed in only the way a fake boyfriend could be when his fake girlfriend started cheating on him with her 'not like that' ex-not-boyfriend.

Alec looked at Logan and wondered how much of a fuss Max would put up if he kicked her robo-boyfriend out of TC permanently. He instinctively knew he would have no end of helpers for the job, but that it would mean a shift of power in TC he wasn't sure he was ready to commit to.

At this point in time, Alec didn't even bother sending dirty looks and glares in Logan's direction, knowing that his fellow transgenics had his back on that score. Instead, he turned back to the dull-metal box with the five-pointed star.

“No one could open it,” said a quiet voice from the other side of the table, and Alec turned to see Gem holding her six month old daughter, Ali.

“Who tried?” he asked.

“A few of us, while we were waiting for you to get here,” she said with a smile. Since that first day, he'd never had to worry about Gem's loyalty or trust. She'd been in his unit back in Manticore since the beginning. Gem was there to guard him at night when he came back from PsyOps the first time, and watched with jaw clenched as they came for him a second time when they found psycho-crazy Ben. She'd already been assigned a breeding partner when he got out of PsyOps the last time, and had trusted in her training when Manticore started to burn.

She was the second of his unit that he'd found since being freed from Manticore, and was determined not to lose her or Ali the way he'd lost Biggs.

“If this is a bomb, we need to get it out of Terminal City,” announced Max, in that grandiose 'I'm in charge' tone she was so fond of using. It had lost its effectiveness after the first six weeks.

A chorus of objections suddenly rose up from the surrounding transgenics, getting louder and angrier by the second.

“That's enough!” Alec called out, keeping his voice level but stern. He hadn't raised his voice, but the tone had carried the order to all corners of the room.

“Alec? What's going on?” Max's voice was quiet and questioning, and Alec looked up to see she was taken aback by the overwhelming response her suggestion had evoked. She was suddenly realizing that there was something going on she wasn't privy too, and Alec figured it’d be about forty seconds before she got angry and started to become violent.

“That's right, you wouldn't know. You weren't there,” he said purposefully. He was being deliberately cruel, but couldn't seem to stop himself. Turning back to the box, he pulled it closer to him, fingers tracing the lines of the star from the top point, following the pattern of connecting the dots like they had all learned years ago. “Protect. Love. Honour. Loyalty. Trust,” he named each line as he drew them, hearing the quiet reverberation of voices as they echoed him.

“Alec?” asked Max again, quiet and curious. Alec guessed that she'd just figured out that something bigger than her was going on, and she was the only one left in the dark. 

“At Manticore we had a – friend. A protector of sorts,” Alec explained, eyes never leaving the box, fingers trailing over the edges and lines. “One of the guards they brought in after the Pulse.”

“It was a scary time,” put in Gem, moving to stand next to him, Ali tied to her chest. “We didn't know what had happened, but the brass was suddenly changing and panicking; guards were leaving and coming. Then came the hormones, and the pheromones and instincts kicked in, sending us into a frenzy we couldn't understand and were too scared to mention to anyone outside other transgenics.”

“Then one day this guy came – just a regular guard,” continued Alec.

“He was our protector, our teacher and our mentor,” said Gem. Alec felt her hand at the small of his back and was grateful for her quiet strength, more than he would admit.

“He taught us how to fight dirty, how to survive, and how to live,” said Alec. “He gave us rules to live by that made sense of our instincts and drives. Protect, love and honour your family, whoever they may be. Be loyal and trustworthy to those who you care for.”

“A Manticore guard?” asked Max, incredulous and disbelieving. “The way you talk about him I thought he was Sandman or something.”

“And what did Sandman ever do for us? Huh, Max?” Alec demanded, feeling the anger he'd been holding back for months rise with each heartbeat. “Did Sandman ever lie for us? Protect us from punishments? Keep our secrets? Did Sandman ever do anything for us, other than create us for the sole purpose of killing? Did he ever teach us that there was a world outside the walls of Manticore? Or that the only people we could count on were our own?”

Alec locked eyes with her as he spoke, using instincts long held in check to capture her attention. “Did Sandman ever teach us how to live?”

“And not just the X-series, either,” called down Mole from above, his voice as hard as Alec's. 

Turning back to the box, Alec again traced the symbol that would forever be associated with their protector. “This is his mark,” he explained to Max. “Five lines connecting five points. Protect. Love. Honour. Loyalty. Trust. That's what he taught us, Max.”

“So he left this for you?” asked Logan, speaking for the first time in a while. Looking up, Alec saw curiosity and a tinge of respect, and had to look away. 

“494 was his favourite,” said Mole, and Alec smiled at the murmur of acknowledgement from around him. Alec couldn't classify how he felt about that. The guard had been closer to Alec than any of the other transgenics, but Alec had always gotten the feeling that the other man had been holding back from Alec and the others, not letting himself get too attached or involved with any one individually, even Alec.

“Open it,” prodded Gem.

Finding the slight impressions on either side of the rectangular box, Alec pressed inwards and felt the sting of collection needles as his DNA was extracted for comparison. Pulling back, he waited with patience barely checked, for the box to either open or not open.

“What was his name?” Logan asked, and before Alec could respond the box beeped. A hissing noise followed as the top popped open a crack. Pulling the lid fully open, Alec noted that it was a standard set, with video screen on the top and a keypad and disk access on the bottom. The lights on the keypad were blinking, and Alec stared at it blankly for a moment as he tried to figure out what code would have been used.

Alec looked up a Logan, meeting his eyes and smiling sadly. “Winchester. His name was Sam Winchester.”

Then he punched in the date that Sam had always considered important – 05232008 – and waited to hear what his friend/mentor had left him.


	2. Chapter 2

The screen was black for an eternity, or a few seconds, depending on your point of view. When the video started to play, Alec wasn't sure whether to be happy or freaked by the image on the screen. He was just like Alec remembered him from the last time he'd seen Sam; dark hair just a tad too long, face aged and scarred from his time before Manticore, eyes old and intelligent and kind. Alec noted the familiar background, and guessed that Sam had recorded this in his room at Manticore.

“Hey there, 494,” said the older man, smiling in a most familiar way. “It's been awhile since we've seen each other – well for you.” Alec's eyes flicked to the time stamp in the corner, and realized that this was the night, or morning, of Sam's disappearance. “For me, it's been about three hours since I've seen you.”

“I was hoping I'd never have to make this recording, that all my preparations were just me being paranoid, but part of me knew this day would come.” Alec saw the sad twitch to his lips and got a bad feeling. “I keep telling myself that I should have been more careful, _more_ paranoid, and maybe I could have avoided all this. But what's done is done, and all anyone can do is live with the consequences.”

Alec watched him take a deep breath as he looked away from the camera for a moment.

“I feel the need to apologize for what I'm about to do, because no one deserves the burden I’m about to share, but we don't always have a choice in the matter. I also want to apologize for disappearing on you and the others. I never wanted to leave without at least a good-bye and some sort of explanation, but circumstances have forced my hand.”

“Someone saw us in the gym last night, and they've started asking questions. Questions I have no intention of answering for reasons I think you can understand.” Alec had never understood the phrase 'blood ran cold' until now, because it seemed as if the very blood in his veins had frozen solid. 

A murmur of anxiety flowed through the room around him, and he wasn't surprised. Sam had been different in many ways. He'd been smart and friendly and welcoming, but he'd also been faster and stronger than any human had a right to be. The rumours had flown fast and free among the transgenics, claiming Sam was another experiment, super human or just plain freaky. Whatever it had been, the transgenics had kept his secret. It had become obvious that no one else knew he was different, so they kept quiet; Sam had had enough problems with the other guards and staff without adding weird abilities to the mix. It would also have guaranteed him a one way trip to the research wing, which none of them had wanted. So they had started to protect him as Sam protected them.

Sam became an adopted transgenic. He'd also become Alec's favourite sparring partner, because despite superior training, strength and reflexes, it had taken him years to be able to beat Sam in hand-to-hand. Their late night matches were where both of them could let loose, neither holding back. It had been an open secret among the transgenics that Sam would train them in fighting dirty, and they all knew that Alec had been with him the night he went missing.

“I wish I could explain this to you in person, but I honestly don't know if I'll ever see any of you again. The fact is, I'm getting too old to run around the country, changing cars and aliases in every town, watching my back every second, never resting. I've been doing it my entire life, and frankly, I'm tired.” Alec watched a wistful smile cross his lips for an instant before it was gone. “Funny, I finally get what Dean was talking about, it just took me a little longer.”

Alec wanted to yell at the screen, demand to know what he meant by all that, but it was just a recording, made almost two years ago.

“Actually, Dean's why I'm here.” In the video, Sam had picked up a photo and was looking at it with a sad expression on his face. “Dean was my big brother. He was the only constant my entire life. He was always there for me from the time I was a baby – carried me out of our burning house when I was six months old. Dean took care of me when our Dad would leave us in some rat trap motel for days on end; he was there when Dad started training us to fight and hunt, and he let me go when I left for college and 'normal', though he fought me tooth and nail. He was my big brother and I would have gone to the ends of the earth for him, just like he would for me. He saved my life more times than I care to think of , and in the end, he gave up his life – his very soul – to keep me alive.”

“And he left me to fight a war on my own.” Sam's voice had gone hard at this, and it was a tone Alec and most of those around him understood – the voice of someone who had seen combat and death and lived to tell the tale. “That's the only thing that kept me going afterwards, the knowledge that Dean would kick my ass if I gave up. So I kept fighting and killing in a war that had been in the works since before I was born. A war I was sure we would never win. Guess I was wrong. We actually did win, sort of, though not how any of us would have liked. Their last strike, the last desperate attempt to wring some sort of victory out of the bloodbath they were carving around the country, ended up killing them.”

“They were the ones who set off the Pulse, hoping for what...I'm not sure. But it ended up destroying them and ending the war that no one knew about.” Alec didn't know what to say or think at this, not sure whether he believed him or not. His logical mind told him that history had never written anything about a war in the US, but then again, history also didn't say anything about genetically engineered super soldiers solidifying the Soviet Union back into its former glory.

“That's when I heard about Manticore. I wasn't planning to do what I did. I had already given so much to save people who would rather kill me than acknowledge my existence -- I just wanted to create a life for myself. But then I found out about you, 494, and I knew I couldn't turn away.”

Alec watched as he played with the edges of the photograph in his hand, and wondered what was so fascinating about it. He got his wish sooner than he would have liked.

“You see, 494, you're about as close to family as I have left,” said Sam, turning the picture to the camera. Alec felt the breath catch in his throat, and heard a mumbling start throughout the room. He was vaguely aware of someone asking him a question, but couldn't hear anything but the roaring in his ears.

The picture showed a younger Sam – about fifteen to twenty years younger – sitting on the hood of a black car, shoulder to shoulder with a slightly older version of Alec.

“That's Dean,” Sam explained unnecessarily. “I don't know when they got a sample of his DNA, but it was probably in the early 1980's. My best guess is that when Manticore went on a DNA recruiting drive, they found the perfect candidate in Dean. Dad was an ex-Special Forces Marine, and Mom was... well, she was special. They obviously got to Dean before I was born, or else there would be a version of me there with you. I've scoured through Manticore's records enough over the last years to know that they weren't hiding that.”

“You're so much like him, 494, that it freaked me out for a while,” Sam said wistfully, voice soft. He gave a quiet laugh, “Guess you're proof that the attitude is genetic.”

Alec focused on his breathing, trying to absorb everything he was hearing. He could try and deal with it all later, but he needed to get through this recording first. Though in retrospect it made a weird sort of sense. He'd always felt a strange kinship with Sam Winchester, though he'd put it down to instincts and Sam being a nice guy. Finding out that he was the weird genetic hybrid of Sam's dead brother was disconcerting, but he focused on the important part. He had family out there; family who knew what he was and still claimed him.

“But that's not the reason I'm making this recording. I have to--”

Alec froze when Sam stopped talking, his pulse starting to speed up when Sam's head turned to the side. The room as a whole watched with bated breath as Sam rose from his seated position and backed away, out of the camera's line of sight. There were some shuffling noises before he crossed back in front of the camera, knife in one hand. The silence of the recording was broken by the sounds of Manticore guards demanding entrance to the room.

There wasn't much talk after that, only the sounds of fighting, but Alec could easily picture the scene in his head. Waiting until they open the door themselves and came at least partially into the room, use surprise to get the first, maybe the second. Then it was pure instinct and the willingness to survive at all costs. No gun shots were heard, so Alec assumed it was all hand-to-hand. A body went flying across the camera's field of view, and for one heart stopping second Alec thought it was Sam, but reason told him that if Manticore had caught – or killed – Sam, they wouldn't have sent out a statewide manhunt to search for him. Also, who would have hidden the box that held this recording?

He was proven right less than a minute later as Sam crossed the screen, knife held in an experienced grip. Then he was bending over the downed guard, and a familiar arm movement let him know why some of the guards were never seen again. Alec couldn't find much sympathy. They had tried to capture/kill Sam; they got what they deserved.

A soft sound of horror came from Max's direction, but Alec didn't have the time or inclination to care. 

Soon enough, a blood splattered Sam sat back down in front of the camera.

“I have about six minutes before they start to get suspicious, so I'll have to be fast. I'm not like everybody else. You and the other transgenics know this already, but what none of you know is the extent of how different I am. Among other things, I get these visions. They give me glimpses of what's going to happen, usually in enough time for me to do something to change them. For the past two years I've been getting a series of them that revolve around you and the others.”

“I can't change a lot of what will happen – or what has already happened – the only thing I can do is to prepare you. You're going to be thrust into a world that's going to fear and hate you because you're different, into a society that will expect you to conform to its norms and rules, but won't tell you what they are. I tried my best to make sure you could depend and trust each other, protect those around you from people who want to hurt you. Because they will. Human nature is to hate and destroy what is different; what they don't understand. And I wish I could be there to help you through it all, but in the end it's better that you find your way on your own.”

“But here's the important part, 494. My visions showed me two possible futures, which is why I'm making this recording now, and hiding it some place that will eventually find this recording in your hands. One will bring an end to the transgenic race as a whole. You'll be hunted and run down wherever you go until you've been exterminated from the face of the earth. The ordinaries will purge your species out of fear, and no amount of words will be able to stop them, because there are times when fear is just too powerful. But there is another path. It's going to be hard and terrifying, but nothing worthwhile is ever easy.”

Alec watched the scarred face of his friend and mentor – and family – and already knew what he was going to say. It was what he'd been debating and fighting against for the past few months.

“You need to step up and take charge; do what you've been trained to do, what I've trained you to do. I've already fought my war, and now it's your turn. Curse of the Winchester's, Alec. We don't like it, but we do it because no one else can or will. Make us proud.”

The recording went black after that, and Alec barely remembered to input the code to stop the box from exploding. He didn't know what he was in shock from more; the voice from the past telling him to take Terminal City and the transgenics away from Max, or that same voice from the past calling him Alec, recorded nearly a year before Max had named him.

“What the hell--”

Max. Huh. She sounded kinda pissed.

Alec closed his eyes briefly, trying to breath through the emotions warring in his chest. A hand on his arm brought his attention to Gem at his side – always at his side – who gazed up at him with steady eyes.

Forget Sandman and his crazy breeding-cult-magic-runes crap, and Max as the 'chosen one'. Sam Winchester was as close to a hero/god/saviour the transgenics had ever known, and Alec had just been proclaimed his brother, or as good as. He didn't want the responsibility or the drama that was inevitable with Max, but he could already sense the current of change running through Command. They were all waiting for him to make a move.

Looking up at Mole, another of his trusted lieutenants, he didn't even need to voice the question to get an answer. 

“We've been waiting for you to say the word.”

Alec looked around the room, searching the faces of those filling the tightly packed room. Each face held a look of hope and excitement, something that had been suspiciously lacking the past few months.

“Ok. Okay,” he said louder. “Let's do it.”

The excited voices and shouts drowned out Max and Logan for a short time, but really, no one could ignore Maxie if she wanted your attention.

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Alec!”

“I'm taking over Max,” he said, calm and steady. “You had your chance to do things your way, and all it got us was dead transgenics and an army outside our walls. It's time to stop talking while the ordinaries kill our kind by the truck load for being what they made us.”

Cheers of support rose up around him, and Alec realized what Max had really forgotten. They had been made for action, not talking. This inaction these past few months had frustrated them all, as more and more of their kind were killed while Max held them back from any sort of action.

They were made to fight and they'd learned to protect their own.

“If you think I'm just going to let you walk in here and--”

“That's it!” interrupted Gem loudly. Alec turned to watch as she unstrapped Ali, automatically taking her when Gem shoved the baby into his arms.

Gem moved around Alec to face Max, and Alec took several steps back. In fact, the entire room pulled back and cleared a space around the two women – though Logan still looked confused as someone pulled him back and away.

“Gem, what-?” 

“Gem-” Alec tried to stop what he knew was coming, but didn't really have much hope of succeeding. 

“No, Alec. This is female business,” she told him, eyes firmly locked on the wary Max. “We held off in deference to you, but no longer. She needs to earn her rank, just like everyone else. No more free passes.”

Alec just nodded, knowing there was nothing he could do. This was the way their society worked, and it was about time Max started learning that. They would never be ordinaries, and it was time they stopped even trying. 

He watched as Gem stared down Max, this as much part of the ritual as anything else. Seeing Max shift uncomfortably, some of his worry evaporated. Gem was back in top form after giving birth, and this was far from the first fight she'd fought since coming to Terminal City.

Alec turned Ali around in his arms, already very active and social at six months old.

“Let's watch Mommy kick some ass, Ali,” he cooed at the baby, smiling as she giggled.

Then the first punch was thrown.

Cat fight. Cool.


End file.
